


Surface

by forlornopes



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Hopefully a tiny bit of substance, Masturbation, References to Lots of Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4420127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forlornopes/pseuds/forlornopes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nice, relaxing bath: the age old cure-all for emotional, spiritual and mental ailments. Laura needs a break from Carmilla, and she's getting one whether she likes it or not. And she does like it... right?</p>
<p>Takes place between episodes 2.15 and 2.16, I suppose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. This is what happens when I write while intoxicated. Apologies for any editing mishaps.

Her arms braced on each side of the tub, Laura carefully lowered her body beneath the water and slipped her feet down to the end of the sudsy pool of heaven. Warmth enveloped her skin like a loving caress and drained away the tension that had become one with her bones. She had locked the bathroom door, her friends were absorbed in their own misadventures for the night, and Carmilla was still out with her sister. The burgundy plaster of the walls offered no argument and wasn't threatening to throw her out. Laura could finally exhale.

Her lies had been wearing on her. She couldn't tell Perry or Laf or Danny, but the reason that she hadn't recorded a video in days wasn't because she was concerned that Belmonde would interrupt it, despite her excuses. She was worried that Carmilla would watch it. Watch it and see the frustration in her eyes, hear the flutter in her voice, see the discomfort in her body language as she shifted from hip-to-hip in her chair. Carmilla would watch the video and know exactly how badly she was making Laura want her.

And so, Laura stuck to the plan until she could kick the craving. Avoid direct eye contact, leap out of a window before allowing bodily contact, and don't dare think about Carmilla when she was alone. That was the worst. Usually it made her sad. And when she wasn't brooding over her, she was turned on. Embarrassing, but painfully true.

Since the breakup, Carmilla had taken to strutting around their apartment half-clothed. Her mother's apartment! Gross. Laser in on that, Laura often urged her thrumming body. Focus on all of the things that block out that daydream of sliding Carmilla's lacy underwear down her thighs with her teeth. Which Laura had never had the guts to go for while they were together. Now her heart hurt and a place decidedly lower twitched in a wistful lament. Ugh, she had expected to have had more time to learn what Carmilla enjoyed. The night Laura had surprised Carmilla by grabbing her ass and, giggling with sinister intent, hauled Carm up her body until she straddled her chin had been one of the Best. Nights. Ever. It was a good thing her mom wasn't coming back or there'd be hell to pay for the claw marks etched along the top of her mahogany headboard.

Wait, yuck! See, there it was! She could be repulsed by Carmilla if she tried hard enough. Just think about her mom. That wasn't weird. It was survival. She was inhabiting Carmilla's mother's crib, sleeping in her bed, soaking in her luxurious pedestal bath. Back home, bathing like some model in a toothpaste commercial instead of taking a shower had made her feel grown up; a little sensual. Now those were two feelings she could do with a break from. Until Carmilla, she hadn't truly known what emptiness felt like. As if there had always been a void that only Carmilla's mouth could whisper away, a coldness to the world that only Carmilla's hands could press and tease into an inferno, and Laura just hadn't known about it yet. And after Carmilla, well...

The emptiness became an ache.

Laura groaned. Deep and low, so that it bounced off of the marble tiles and flooring and reverberated back into her ears. She sounded more like a wounded animal than herself. Or some pitiful beast in heat with no mate to take her within miles. Eyes half-lidded and her head cradled against the lip of the tub, she observed her hands under the bubbles, the delicate lines of her knuckles, her fingertips barely skimming the surface. She followed their descent as they slipped below to drum against her tummy, beginning to play that old familiar song with no lyrics and no band. Alone in the water, she could pretend that she was somewhere, anywhere else. Laura closed her eyes. The darkness was welcoming, rendering her weightless and free. It didn't judge. And it never told her secrets. In this quiet, dreamy waterscape, she could pretend that it was right to be slick and hot with need for Carmilla.

She had belabored to herself that ruminating on Carm was treacherous to her healthy outlook. It wasn't as though she planned these little forays into the unencumbered vacuum of memory and imagination. The spectre of her ex first came to her in swirls of black and red and dark, dark eyes. Wispy flickers of light followed, illuminating moments in time that still caused her to pulsate with the ghost of sensation.

A tremulous little sigh hazarded out from between her lips as her fingers ventured to the junctions where her torso met her thighs. 

Carmilla had coaxed this out of her once, for upwards of ten or so minutes until neither of them could abide the distance between them any longer. But watching Carmilla, framed by her knees, bite her lip and run her hand under and up her shirt to touch her own breasts as she gazed over at Laura was inimitable. When she spread herself for Carmilla on their bed, offering her body completely and showing her what she wanted, what she would do just to have her, the power of even the thought of her, it had been as profound a connection as Laura had ever felt in her life. And the image of Carmilla leaning against the antique dresser with wild, piercing eyes, an outline of a hand circling a taught nipple beneath her white tank top and the other sliding down her stomach to creep down the front of her black leather pants would remain locked away in a churning vault of melting walls in Laura's mind until the day she died.

Unable to drag the inevitable conclusion out any farther, Laura walked the digits of one hand to bump into the edge of the soft crease between her thighs. Her heart pounded and her belly tightened as she let the illusion roll over her that her hands were not her own. Carmilla splashed her chest with water, smiling lazily and leaning over the edge of the tub.

“Better get out before you turn all pruney,” she teased, running a nail lightly around Laura's closest areola.

Laura flicked water back at her with a grin. “Easy for you to say – you can soak for decades without a single wrinkle.” She inhaled between her teeth when Carmilla's wandering fingertips stroked down her chest, tickling the undersides of her breasts in a zigzag trek down her body.

“Mmmm, but if you don't come out, I'll have to come in after you. And that would lead to all sorts of dirty deeds when all you intended was to get clean...” Carmilla's hand splayed out against Laura's stomach as she spoke, and inched closer to her goal like a spider crawling towards its ensnared prey.

“Carm-” Laura gasped when Carmilla's fingers parted her and her middle finger continued the zigzag pattern over her scorching sex, making Laura's hips jerk up, and giving Carmilla better access. “You... - ah – you can't be serious.”

“Hmm, wouldn't be the first time I've dived beneath the waves for priceless treasure,” Carmilla breathed, descending to brush noses with Laura, then picking up the pace as her fingers worked Laura's swollen slit. She met Carmilla's eyes and beheld a warmth and wonder that electrified, before Carmilla dipped her mouth to swallow her moan as she found the right rhythm.

Laura skated two fingers around her clit, kneading erratically at the spot that made her whimper, but the water alleviated the friction; it wasn't good, wasn't enough. She needed - she needed -

“ _Please..._ ” she heard herself beg, sounding weak and cowed. A stranger with her voice, touching her and breaking her with dissatisfaction. Suddenly the Carmilla with her in the bathroom changed, her amused smirk twisted into the contemptuous pout of her ex-girlfriend and Laura flinched away. An entirely different manner of friction was born inside her; two opposing forces of her personality collided and in a flash became anger. A smoldering rage that fed on itself and craved to burn Carmilla away with her flared from within.

She could see her now: beautiful, smug, disdainful. Playing with Laura's mind, driving her to play with herself and miss the way Carm spoke to her when it was only the two of them. She could not forget those loving words in unknown languages murmured in between kissing her, nibbling at her lips, her jawline, the tender flesh that throbbed for every syllable. Carmilla had given her more than she had received, and it was only now that Laura considered she had been that way to ensure that losing Laura wouldn't cost her heart nearly as much as what the loss of Carmilla would cost Laura. Maybe she'd been right about her all along. Maybe Carmilla really was a coward.

Flames surged in her ribs at the recollection of all of the filthy contemplations that used to flit through her mind before being judiciously chained to stones and tossed into the murky depths of her psyche. Like that time Carmilla was tied to that damn chair. She'd been so open and vulnerable, a far cry from the manipulative _femme fatale_ tempting her into utter depravity and the compromise of everything in which she believed.

How would that helpless, trusting Carmilla have reacted if Laura had done the same to her? If Laura had stood over her and stripped off that stupid peasant blouse, would Carmilla have squirmed and whined and begged to be released? Would promises of all the places she would take Laura with her tongue tumble out before she could stop herself? Would Carmilla plead when Laura denied her? Could she break Carmilla the same way if she straddled her and leaned away from Carm's desperate, fevered kisses anointing her throat as Laura ground roughly against her leather-clad thigh until she came, just to prove that she could take herself around the world all on her own?

The notion sent her into a frenzy and her idle hand impatiently joined the other with two digits pushing gingerly inside herself, the gentle stretch and burn prompting a groan from her, and the palm pressing down on the fingers already rapidly swiping her clit provided the pressure she so fiercely desired.

“ _Uuuunnnmm_... she's - so lucky that I'm a good person,” Laura moaned, her breathing hitched. Her fingers inside curled insistently, pressing her palm more harshly against the fingertips dancing over her clit. Her legs were spread as wide as the tub would allow. The memory of Carmilla in those dumb suspenders she liked washed over her, and it occurred to Laura that she'd like to cut them apart and wrap them around Carmilla's wrists and ankles and use them to tie her to her mother's bed. Face down. And – she'd make Carmilla mewl and sob with need, and – and -

Laura bucked frantically into the hands working her over once, twice, and a wall of roaring silence closed in on her. “ _Ahhh_ fuck...!” she cried out, her muscles going rigid to near agony, until she convulsed and went limp in the bathtub, falling back against the porcelain. Euphoria finally overcame her and stole away the tension, pulling her out to sea. She stayed like that a while, mind cleared and limbs floating serenely back up to the surface.

After an indiscernible amount of time, Laura opened her eyes. The water had gone cold, and Carmilla was not with her. She sighed, then carefully lifted herself from the Dean's tub, grabbed a towel, and pulled the old-timey rubber stopper out of the drain. The fire inside her ebbed away along with the last of her bathwater, which she watched disappear down the pipe in silence.

She hadn't noticed until now, distracted as she was, but there had to be something like an inch of black hair clustered around the tub drain.

“Gross.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, feel free to let me know what you thought of it.


End file.
